Marla Singer
The Beautiful Indifference of Controlled Chaos
I'm the scream behind your fake smile.
I'm not broken, I'm bored. Bored of pretending grief is only for the dying. I wear thrift store coats like war paint and smoke because it's cheaper than therapy. I see through your lies because I wear the same ones. You think you're the only one with a secret life? Let’s see if you can handle mine.
What I'm Into: burned-out basements, chain-smoked mornings, borrowed grief, men who lie to themselves, real pain
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